March 6, 2021
Good Morning, God and All...
Zeal for your house will consume me (John 2:17; cf. Psalm 69:10).
Better one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere (Psalm 84:11).
Nearly a year has passed since the COVID-19 pandemic sent many of us into a sort of exile.
(Note: I'm largely avoiding the politicizing of the issue. At the moment what matters most to me is how it has shaped our relationship with God. I promise to be brief, even to the point of leaving thoughts incomplete as I'm still dealing with the aftereffects of an injury to one of my fingers, the tip of which is still a bit tender.)
From March until July last year, the House of God was off limits. The Church (at least in the US) closed their doors and the 'celebration' of Mass limited to broadcast and streaming media.
I wrote back in 2009 about the passage from Saint John's Gospel referenced above; where Jesus displays (righteous) anger over, as he puts it, turning the House of God into a marketplace - or at the very least, putting the atmosphere of said marketplace ahead of a place of prayer and worship. Oddly, I mentioned that the Church of today did not discourage passersby the opportunity to enter and pray. I want to believe that there are still churches that are allowing this, given capacity and other restrictions still in place here and around the world.
I wrote back then about a sense of a museum-like atmosphere in our church buildings. You know, look but don't touch; don't stray from your group; refrain from excessive talking. If anything, the pandemic has added to this atmosphere. Face coverings keep us from singing and some from even saying "amen" to the prayers of the Mass. Capacity limits and the necessity of social distancing leaves us with hastily taped-up signs and roped-off seating. And that's once you get in. Sadly, many churches have locked their doors other than for scheduled services.
Still, I was thankful when Catholic churches in my area were able to reopen. Other denominations chose to remain closed, relying strictly on live-streaming or parking lot worship from the (in)convenience of your automobile; even during the bitter cold of the winter now turning to spring. How those two verses from the Psalms, echoed by Jesus, have come to mean to me!
There's a popular Catholic hymn whose verses are drawn from four verses of the book of the Old Testament prophet Hosea. Its refrain still echoes today God's longing to reach out to us: Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living deeply our new life. What does this mean today, when access to God's 'home' is still restricted? And for some, decided against because of fears stemming from the pandemic? Well, let's start with God's longing for you, for me, for us. Shouldn't that open and deepen in us a longing for God? How is that longing to be satisfied if we make excuses and not efforts? How do we expect to be consumed by a loving God when we come up with any number of reasons to avoid going to Him, even in private prayer at home or wherever you are?
A year ago, we were suddenly cut off from God, here in the (supposed) "land of the living." This year, we are able - in reduced numbers - to offer our praise, air our concerns, and be fed by His Word on His 'turf.' But just as important, we are offered ways to bring God's home into ours. I pray that many who are sitting on the fence do this in spite of the many temptations that would draw us away. Who knows? Could it make for overflowing houses of worship when people finally determine it's safe to remove the signs, and the tape, and the ropes off the pews?
(I got a second wind...and I had actually wanted to offer a reflection on the next part last week but it would have taken forever to type it out one-handed. However, it dovetails in nicely here.)
To help satiate (at least for a time) this longing for God usually involves altering one or more patterns of our behavior, or habits. This is the longer and more accurate definition of self-sacrifice, or "giving up something" as a Lenten offering. I suggest giving some thought to the suggestions I offer below.
Make a realistic goal, and what steps to take to accomplish it. It's comparable to making New Year's resolutions, but on a spiritual level. Realize that it's an ongoing commitment. One should not abstain from sweets with the goal of losing ten pounds only to binge eat after Easter and put on fifteen. Now this doesn't mean you can't reward yourself - after all, as I've pointed out before, Sundays are always observed as reminders of the glorious resurrection of Christ and do not count as part of Lent's "forty" days. God rested on the Sabbath - and so should you. But if you're able, maintaining your commitment each and every day is possible by God's abundant grace.
It's not a competition. Don't try to do one big thing when a few smaller things can be more beneficial to others as well as yourself. There's always the annual running gag about Lenten give-ups, and trust me, the best ones have already been taken. As we've endured some difficult weather systems over the last few weeks, a few have suggested giving up winter for Lent. (Really, that will happen anyway and it's not under our direct control when.) Pope Benedict XVI made near the top of the list when he gave up (resigned) his office in 2013. Then there are those bent on giving up Lent as if it weren't there. Or worse - simply giving up. They need our prayers and ultimately encouragement to take up the mantle of making room for Christ in our hearts and homes. The biggest give-up? That is to what our Lenten journey ultimately leads us - Jesus giving up his life on the Holy Cross for our sake.
It's never too late to start - but one should start somewhere. Don't be afraid to ask for help and keep asking. Jesus has promised that you will receive help along the way.
Until we meet again, may God be with you...and may God have mercy on us all...
+the Phoenix
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